


december 6th: coffee in the cold

by watergator



Series: december fic advent 2019 [6]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: First Meetings, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: prompt: outsidephil gets locked out of his apartment when a kind stranger offers some help
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: december fic advent 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559341
Comments: 10
Kudos: 147





	december 6th: coffee in the cold

The little sliver of moonlight that bursts down from the sky above him, poking through the muddled clouds obscuring it is the only real bit of light Phil as as his hand scrambles in each one of his pockets in an almost blind panic.

Each pocket proves to be disappointingly empty as it clamps around on the space that feels the exact opposite of what his front door key should feel like, and as he checks a third and a fourth time he finds himself muttering curses under his breath that he wouldn’t usually let himself say.

“You alright there mate?”

A voice that cuts through the dead of night has him spinning around so fast on his heels he almost falls over, luckily having the door behind him pressed up against his back to stabilize him.

There’s a man stood there, underneath the terrible and grim moonlight. He’s tall enough for it to be scary, draped in black that has Phil inching impossibly closer to his locked door as he watches the stranger just… watch him.

His face breaks into a dopey grin.

“Mate, mate, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His voice is slurred and his body wavers where it’s planted in front of him.

Phil blinks before he frowns at him.

“Are  _ you  _ alright?” Phil asks back instead. A newfound wave of confidence overcomes him as he stands and watches the man sway like a tall tree in the wind.

The man gives a slow blink.

“You’re locked outside,” he eventually says, his voice pitches up at the end, almost as if he’s enjoying himself.

Phil’s frown only grows deeper between his brows.

“You’re ignoring my question,” Phil snaps back.

The man grins. “You ignored me first mate,” he shrugs. “Only carrying on what you started.”

Phil sighs. 

He’s cold, he’s tired, he’s sad down to the very core of his being and now he’s being cornered by some bumbling and inebriated buffoon.

Of course, Phil wouldn’t call him that to his face. Despite how drunk he may be.

“You think too much,” the guy suddenly says, pulling Phil away from the inside of his own head and reminding him of where he’s stood right now.

Phil frowns again, worried that there may be a permanent line of concern across his face before they end of the night.

“What does that mean?” Phil asks. His hands are shoved deep inside his coat pockets but the icy chill doesn’t stop for anyone, nor their coat pockets.

“You do a lot of thinking. I see you think a lot.”

Phil balks. Sure, this guy is tall and probably half his strength just by pure estimate - the estimate that Phil knows he himself isn’t very trained in physical terms - but even tipsy and giggly, a sentence like that to fall out of his mouth with such ease puts Phil on edge.

His face must be telling, as the man takes a little stumble as he laughs.

“Oh! Oh god, fuck, yeah that sounded weird,” he’s laughing and Phil has to wonder if he’d actually said his own thoughts outloud of if this strange man was just talking to himself like it was normal.

“I- I live next door. Well, like, three doors down,” the guy keeps talking. His words are a little clearer now and Phil wonders if maybe too much time has passed between them or maybe it’s just the fresh night air that’s done it.

Phil realises he’s said nothing still as the man stands and looks at him expectantly.

“I’m Dan.”

Phil blinks.

“Phil.”

There’s a long stretch of silence between them as Phil stands with his back to the door, looking at… _ Dan,  _ apparently, with a careful gaze.

A few cars pass the street, their engines hum and tires roll smoothly over the gravel.

“Are you really locked out of your house?” Dan asks after what feels like forever passing.

He nods, rather shamefully.

“You lose your keys?”

He nods a second time.

Dan grins, something well practiced at this point.

“Why’d you lose your keys?”

Phil tuts and shifts his weight from one hip to the other, just to keep the circulation of blood in his lower half to stop it from freezing up and falling off.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Phil explains but Dan just runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip and gives Phil a strange look.

“So what’s your plan now?” He asks.

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “Is this like, twenty questions or something?”

Dan gives a glorious snort of laughter.

“Twenty questions,” he repeats, feigning a terrible northern accent that Phil’s guessing is supposed to be a jab at him, but it’s so bad that Phil decides that’s only a burn for him.

“You’re a weirdo,” Phil shakes his head as he turns back around, pretending to look for his keys he knows he doesn’t have, only because he doesn’t want Dan to see the little smile he has pulling at the corners of his lips.

He hears Dan laugh from behind him.

“And you’re locked outside for the night.”

Phil simply turns his head to look back at him.

“And what do you suggest then?” Phil asks him.

Dan raises his brows and sighs heavily as he throws his hands into his pockets.

“I’m not inviting you back to my place,” he tells him, and honestly it takes Phil a little off guard.

Of course, it wasn’t as if that was something Phil  _ was  _ expecting. He’s known Dan a total of maybe ... ten minutes. 

That’s barely any time to get to know someone to go back to their place, regardless of the intentions.

“It’s freezing.” Dan simply says.

Phil turns back around at him, looking at him with a flicker of his eyes, waiting for what he’ll say next.

“I’m going for coffee,” is what he does say. “To sober up.”

Phil grins.

A coffee shop is a good idea actually. His phone is dead and if he can charge it up he might be able to get hold of his landlord, or maybe someone willing to take him in for the night.

“Okay,” Phil says slowly. Dan may be the one that’s a little unfiltered right now but he’s letting him take charge of the conversation for now.

“So come with me. Come get warm and sober with me.”

Phil does a little laugh and steps away from his door.

“Not drunk mate,” Phil tells him as he reaches to where he’s stood.

They start walking together. Once again Phil lets Dan take the lead.

It might be a stupid decision but Phil is sure at this point he’s some kind of king of stupid decisions, and one little one on top of a billion probably won’t hurt him.

There’s a shoulder bumping into his and he looks up to see the wonky grin plastered on Dan’s face.

“Come get warm then,” he says.

Phil smiles. “Alright then.”

*

They find a little empty coffee shop that’s open. It’s nothing like the starbucks he’s used to but Dan swears down it’s the best thing ever and reprimands him for being so cooperate and silly.

Phil just sips at his drink with a smile on his face.

Once Dan’s guzzled down his drink he’s sighing something like relief. It makes Phil giggle.

“I thought  _ I _ was a coffee heathen,” he points out. “But you’re like, Jekyll and Hyde kind of coffee monster.”

Dan sets his cup down and shoots Phil an affronted look from across the table.

“I never usually get so drunk,” he tells him honestly. “I just knew I was gonna wake up in the shits tomorrow if I didn’t get that coffee.”

Phil hums, the mug in his hands is warm and comforting.

His phone is laying across the table. There’s no outlets here and it’s probably dead now, he thinks. Still, he could just wait all night in this 24/7 coffee shop, he thinks.

He tries not to think though. Not when anxiety and worry and fear comes bubbling up inside him at just there mere thought of, well, anything really.

Phil clears his throat. “Good night then?”

Dan gives a bitter sounding laugh that takes him back a little.

Dan looks up at him. “I only ever go out drinking in bars if I’m sad,” he tells him.

Phil swallows thickly. “And where did you go drinking tonight?”

Dan looks at him, like proper looks at him.

“A bar,” he says with a half smile.

Phil blinks, looking down for a moment as he shifts in his seat.

“You can talk about if you want,” he finds himself saying rather awkwardly, and Dan barks another sharp laugh.

“You don’t wanna hear all that,” he says, waving a rather large hand around. “Just a classic stupid boyfriend of five years cheated on me, broke my heart and literally every piece of me feels like broken glass, but hey! I’m alive. It’s good. I got drunk and now I’m here with you, strange and mysterious neighbour that lost his keys.”

Phil feels his eyes go wide for a second before he’s clearing his throat again.

Dan chuckles under his breath.

“If you turn out to be homophobic or something that’s actually really hilarious to me because first of all, a homo saved you from the freezing cold—“

“I was  _ freezing _ ,” Phil mutters under his breath.

“And secondly,” Dan continues, voice getting a little louder. “This is a gay cafe. Well, it’s not one of the gayest I’ve ever been to but they do their charity,” he tells him.

Phil just looks at him.

“Your coffee just went towards a gay kids future, baby.”

Phil is stunned a little, watching the humorous expression on Dan’s face before he splutters a laugh.

This time it’s Dan that’s looking a little confused.

“I’m not homophobic,” Phil tells him. 

Dan’s face cracks into a grin.

“Oh. Good.”

Phil hums, peering into his mug.

His tummy feels twisted and anxious and all weird inside. He’d get that feeling sometimes; something uncontrollable and scary, back when he was little.

His first port of call would always be mum.

He’s not so sure anymore.

“So it’s not the gayest, you said?” Phil asks, bringing his mug to his lips.

Dan leans back in his seat rather comfortably.

“Nah. The whole rainbows and flags and shit, it’s too much sometimes,” he tells him. “I don’t need to care for it. I like the subtlety of just being gay and not having to have it showing, you know?”

Phil swallows his drink so fast he almost chokes before he catches himself, setting his mug down with a shaky hand.

He  _ does  _ know. 

He knows how to keep it lowkey. He knows how to keep it in the back of his head where it wouldn’t bother any other part of his life.

“Yeah,” he croaks, peering down at the brown swirl of his drink. “I get it.”

Dan doesn’t say anything for a while, and when Phil eventually looks up he can tell that he’s studying him.

He’s not very conspicuous about it; peering at him through squinted eyes, a faint smirk across his lips, like it’s something to be pleased with.

Phil shuffles forward a little.

“So,” he starts, his voice a little shaky. “Not a fan of rainbows then?”

Dan relaxes and chuckles. “Nope. This cafe is like, the least obvious kind. Gets all the dickheads that wander in here unwillingly letting themselves donate every time they buy a biscuit. It’s a brilliant idea,” he grins.

Phil shrinks back in his seat. “Seems a little dangerous, don’t you think?”

Dan’s eyes flicker across his face and it’s then that Phil pays attention to them.

They’re a deep brown. Almost black in the night light. His lashes are thick and dark and flutter as they open and close.

“Why’d you lose your keys then?” Dan eventually speaks.

Phil pulls his mug closer to him.

“We weren’t talking about that,” he states.

Dan only grins wider. “We are now. What happened to your keys?”

There’s the sound of a car moving past outside near the window. It passes, and leaves them in silence again.

“I left them at my mums,” he tells him, swallowing thickly.

Dan nods. “And where does she live?”

Phil frowns. “I’m not telling you that,” he exclaims softly. 

Dan’s laughing. “Why?”

Phil looks at him for a second. “Well… what if you robbed her?”

Dan leans back and laughs, it’s such an incredible laugh it makes Phil giggle a little bit despite himself.

“You’re weird,” Dan tells him once he’s stopped.

Phil finishes the last of his drink. “So are you.”

Dan stares at him.

Phil stares back. It’s such an intense look that Phil wonders desperately what he’s going to say next.

“I really hate my fucking boyfriend right now.”

It’s not really what he was expecting.

“Oh,” is all he says. He’s not sure why.

“Well,” Dan adds on quickly. “ _ Ex- _ boyfriend now.”

Phil grins. 

“Oh,” he says again, this time with a little more enthusiasm.

Dan smiles, something genuine and natural and pretty looking.

It’s then that Phil notices the two dimples either side of his face and he wonders why it took him so long to realise.

Maybe it was his eyes, he thinks.

“Is your phone dead?” Dan asks, before he’s reaching over and picking it up himself.

Phil just watches.

“Yep,” he sighs, answering his own question before he stands up, the chair scraping back on the floor loudly.

Phil feels his heart kick against his chest.

“Where are you going?” He asks as he watches Dan casually slip his coat back on.

He pauses, one arm half in, half out of the sleeve before he smiles again.

“My place,” he tells him.

Phil finds himself standing up too.

“But I thought you said you weren’t gonna invite me back to your place?”

Dan zips up his coat with deep chuckle and a shake of his head.

“You really  _ do _ worry too much,” he tells him.

Phil hums. That’s about right.

Dan passes him his phone and waggles his eyebrows as he looks him dead in the eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he tells him. “I’m not gonna shag you.”

*

That eventually turned out to be a big fat lie.

They’d gone back to Dan’s, made more coffee all whilst Dan had ranted and cursed and said every name under the sun about the absolute cunt bag that was his ex, very important detail, ex boyfriend.

Phil has listened and been kind, and told him that he did sound like a C bag (reluctant to use such profanities in front of people he’s just met) and Dan had gone all teary eyed and leant across the sofa and kissed him.

Of course, once they’d moved from the living room to Dan’s room, just three knuckles deep in, Dan had stopped and kissed him gently on the thigh.

“I promise this isn’t some rebound shit,” he’d mumbled.

Phil has just whined, wriggling his hips and told him to get on with it.

And Dan did. Very tremendously, in fact.

They’d fucked and kissed and rolled around some more.

Now, Dan was asleep on his own bed, spread out and naked, his dick soft and limp across his thigh and Phil looks at it, thinking about how just an hour ago it was nestled up inside him making him feel all sorts.

_ “Not some rebound shit,” _ Dan’s voice echoes in his head.

He looks at Dan, out for the count.

He hadn’t been so drunk when they came home. The three coffees they'd had between them and the walk from the cafe back to his place had given him enough fresh air in his lungs to keep him from ever being drunk again.

Phil sits up and groans. His legs feel weak, his body is sore and he’s so so tired.

He’s slipping off the bed, freezing for a moment when it creaks under his weight but a quick glance back and he’s sure that Dan’s still sleeping.

His clothes are mixed in with Dan’s and in the low light he fumbles around until he finds them all.

He’s pulling his pants on over each leg when he hears a noise behind him.

“You’re leaving,” Dan whispers.

Phil sits down on the bed and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he tells him. His chest aches.

There’s a beat of silence, like maybe Dan’s thinking over what he wants to say next.

He eventually speaks.

“You have nowhere to go,” he tells him. “You’re locked out, remember?”

Phil does remember. His phone is charging in Dan’s kitchen and his jeans are just by his feet still.

He swallows thickly, feeling like he’s got a mouthful of sand.

His phone could be fully charged, alive as anything and he’d still wonder where he could go.

Dan’s silent behind him.

Phil sucks in a sharp breath.

He’s not going to cry. He’s sick of crying today. He’s had enough of it.

He hears Dan moving on the bed and then suddenly, he’s beside him, a warm and large hand rests delicately on his bare shoulder.

“Do you have someone to call?” He asks.

His tone is so sweet and so caring. It’s gentle and loving and kind and he’s sure that there’s not a bad bone in Dan’s body at this point.

He promised himself he wasn’t going to cry, but he does anyway.

He hiccups and the tears come flooding in.

He’s being pulled into Dan’s chest where it’s warm and safe and a bit sticky still.

He cries some more and lets the tears dribble down his chin.

Dan’s hand comes up his back to trace little patterns against his skin.

It makes him think of his mum and he only cries harder.

“Hey,” Dan whispers. “It’s okay.”

Phil sniffs. 

“No it’s not,” he croaks. Nothing feels okay. Everything feels like it’ll never be okay again.

Dan says nothing again and Phil peels himself away from him.

He’s got a patient look on his face. Phil respects that. There’s a bubbling of want and hurt in his chest that’s been boiling up since forever and right now it feels like it’s going to explode out of him.

It  _ does  _ explode out of him.

“I came out to my mum,” Phil blurts out.

Dan blinks at him. “Oh.”

Phil feels his face crumple again now that he’s hearing his own words.

He came out to his  _ mum _ .

There’s arms around him again.

“Oh! Oh fuck, Phil, I’m so sorry,” he says genuinely. “That’s awful holy shit.”

He lets himself be wrapped up in Dan’s arms until he’s shaking his head.

“No, no. It’s not like that,” he blubbers.

He’s looking at Dan’s face again and how there’s lines of confusion across it.

“I kinda just, accidentally told her,” he says. “I didn’t stick around to know what her reaction was.”

Dan sucks in a breath. “That’s rough.”

Phil hums, wiping the underneath of his nose with his wrist.

“I got scared,” he tells him, feeling his eyes bubble up with more tears before he blinks them away.

Dan’s smile is gentle and soft. “I get that feeling.”

Phil looks at him before he looks away at his feet. He sniffs wetly and rather grossly.

He doesn’t want to say anything. Not right now at least.

Dan must read his mind before he’s shuffling over closer. He’s still naked, but the covers are draped over his waist rather comfortably.

“I didn’t even tell mine,” Dan says after some time. His voice is a little husky before he’s clearing it quickly.

“I emailed them and told them if they wanted to fuck off then they could just fuck off.”

Phil winces. He couldn’t imagine having that attitude towards his mum, even if right now their relationship feels like eggshells.

“And what happened then?” He asks.

Dan gives him a sad looking smile and it sends his heart plummeting into his stomach.

“My dad was a dickhead anyway,” he whispers. “It didn’t really bother me too much.”

Phil hangs his head in his hands. “This is so awful. I don’t even know why I opened my big, stupid mouth.”

There’s gentle fingers running through his hair that makes him look up. Dan has a twinkle in his eye.

“Not big and stupid at all,” Dan grins. “In fact, it's a wonderful mouth, I just spent the better half of the evening getting to know it very well.”

Phil gulps. He really did that. They really did this and now here he was.

He watches as Dan’s face quickly falls and he’s scrambling for something to say.

“Fuck. I’m the one with the big, stupid mouth.”

Phil smiles shortly before he’s wiping at his nose again.

“No,” he sniffs. “It’s alright. I think it’s pretty hilarious for me to come out to my mum, brick it and come home to just sleep with the first guy I quite literally see on my doorstep.”

It all comes out in a large messy tumble of words and he realises what he’s said when he watches the look on Dan’s face change a couple of times until he’s laughing.

“Well. I did buy you coffee first,” he teases.

Phil sighs again. 

“Sorry. You’re right. That was really rude of me.”

Dan’s hand has found its way to his shoulder again.

“You’re like, the opposite of rude, mate.”

Phil blinks at him. “You don’t have to call me mate anymore you know.”

Dan grins. “Alright. I’ll think of other things I can call you then, shall I?”

Phil actually manages a smile. “If it’ll stop me from thinking about other stuff.”

Dan sighs; it’s not quite impatient, or cruel sounding, but rather like he’s struggling with the right words to say. 

At least that’s what Phil hopes that sigh means.

Dan’s chewing hard on his lip until he inhale and puts his hands on top of his lap.

“I don’t know a lot about family,” he says. “Mine is a horrible mess that I’m not even gonna bother getting into,” he says with a dark chuckle.

“And I know a lot less about yours,” he adds, voice serious again. 

Phil sniffs.

“But the thing about family and being gay and understanding all of it,” Dan frowns. “Is that it’s  _ you _ .”

Phil just looks at him. His face is a little fuzzy in the low light but he can still make out the prominent look on his face; the look of understanding.

“You get to decide, Phil. If they can’t figure it out then it’s on them.”

Phil swallows thickly. “I guess so,” he croaks.

Dan smiles, his dimple creases into his face again. “All you need is time.”

Phil sighs tiredly and finds himself falling a little into Dan. 

Dan who doesn’t mind, and ends up taking him in his arms, his body pressed up against the soft, naked squishiness.

“You’re still naked,” Phil points out, a second time now.

Dan chuckles and pull back the covers covering his bits as if to prove a point.

Phil stares down between his legs and looks back up a Dan.

“This is as gay and as rebellious as I could get right now,” he says, managing an actual laugh.

Dan laughs softly with him. “Yeah?” He says, quirking a brow.

Phil hums. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Dan starts. “You’re very welcome. For the coffee, the hospitality, the sex and then the gay pep talk.”

Phil blushes hard, and even though it’s dark and Dan probably won’t be able to see the red glow of his cheeks, he still groans and lunges forward, almost knocking Dan down in the process as he buries his face into the crook of his neck where he laughs, breath licking against skin there.

Dan’s breath hitches before he’s laughing too, and then a pair of soft lips are pressing into his hairline.

They sit there for a while, listening to the sound of the city exist outside, and Phil tries to match his breathing with Dan’s.

He feels less and less weighted with each intake and exhale.

He snuggles his face in deeper to Dan’s neck and whispers,

“Dan?”

There’s fingertips tracing up his spine.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

The fingertips dance and draw all across his skin, patterns in squiggles and no real order or caring.

Phil smiles.

“Thank you.”

Dan does a half chuckle, something sleepy.

The fingertips reach the top of his neck where they thread into the short clippings of his hair and Phil sighs. 

He can feel the deep rumble of Dan’s voice when he speaks. He can feel the faint press of an Adam’s apple when he lingers his lips there for a second. He feels a knot untie in his belly when Dan eventually says,

“You’re welcome.” 

And it feels like things might be okay again.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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